I Will Find You, 'Ere the Night
by Anaxa
Summary: When Harry Kim goes missing on an away mission to an uninhabited planet, the Voyager crew must find their way to him before he is broken.
1. Chapter 1

It has been seven hours since a research team landed on the uninhabited M-class planet beneath Voyager. Harry Kim is leading his first away mission, accompanied by Neelix and a few ensigns, to collect plant and food samples. Things are going swimmingly until his combadge chirps, the captain's voice giving him pause.

"Mr. Kim?" He taps his badge.

"Yes, Captain?" Harry waves Neelix and the others on ahead, turning to look out over the hill they've just climbed as he awaits communication. And waits. Frowning, he taps the badge again. "Captain?" He is raising his hand to touch it again, and the world goes dark.

* * *

"Status report," Captain Janeway demands as she steps onto the bridge. Chakotay gives her a look of concern as he relays the frantic message they just received from Neelix.

"Harry's gone missing," he says, worry coloring his voice. Tom is antsy, sitting at the edge of his seat and moving constantly.

"Last known location?" she asks.

"He was just behind me," Neelix says through his combadge, voice tinny and frantic, "and then he stopped when you contacted him. He told me to go ahead, and I thought he'd be right behind me, but then when I looked he was just gone and I don't know what could have happened!" His panic comes through more clearly than the message, but Janeway isn't concerned about the Talaxian. She's concerned about Harry's message.

"You said he received a message from me?" Her bewilderment goes unnoticed by Neelix.

"Just a moment ago, we heard you say 'Mr. Kim?,' and then he waved me ahead, and then he was gone."

The captain shoots a worried look to her commander.

"Chakotay, Tuvok, in my ready room." She taps her combadge. "Transporter room, bring home our remaining away team, try to get a lock on Harry Kim." She slips between the doors to her room, her most trusted companions on her heels.

* * *

When Harry wakes up, all he knows is that he is cold. The chill makes his limbs heavy and unresponsive, and it takes him a while to discover that he's restrained. He opens his eyes cautiously, not willing to alert anyone that he is awake. He needn't have worried; the room he is in is dark and empty. At least, he thinks it is. He's strapped to a cot and can only see to his left and right. For all he knows there may be a hundred people above his head that he can't see. The thought isn't comforting.

"Hello?" His voice feels too loud in the quiet of the room. There's no answer, but he hears a rustle of clothing beyond his field of vision. "Where am I?" he asks.

"Somewhere better, if you wish," replies a soft voice. Harry can't make out if the voice is male or female, but it doesn't sound threatening.

"What do you mean?" He twists against his bonds for a moment. "Better than what?"

A creature in a dark purple robe steps into view. The body is humanoid, but the face is insectoid, almost, with glittering, faceted eyes and a flat, slit-like nose. Harry tries to ignore the mouth. It will haunt him anyway.

"Better than your flying home," it replies. "We can give you so much more," it whispers, walking slowly around his cot, "so much more power, so much more respect," and it brushes long, haired fingers down the side of his face. Harry grimaces and squeezes his eyes shut.

"Why," he asks on a shaky breath, "do I need that from you?"

The creature gives an approximation of a smile.

"We have been watching your ship, and your family does not respect you," it hisses. "We have heard how they talk about you, talk down to you, treat you like a child." It is standing behind him, hidden, once more. "We can make you a king." Harry laughs mirthlessly.

"Oh yeah? What's in it for you?"

"Knowledge," it replies.

"I'm not telling you anything."

"You will."

Harry is about to reply with something sarcastic and defiant when an object is shoved roughly into his mouth and quickly secured with straps behind his head. His eyes widen in panic as he turns his head at painful angle, desperate to see his captor. He asks a question that comes out as a muffled whine.

"Harry Kim, you will not trust us, but I think, in time, you may tell us what we want." The hand is back, stroking his face, and his stomach roils. "You do not believe the power we could give you." The hand moves up to his hair. "But we will show you. You will choose a stronger master." Harry has only a moment to register that comment before a metallic instrument is touched to his bare chest, and he begins to scream.

* * *

"Tuvok, I want a report of all communications with the surface in the last two hours. I need names, workstations, everything you can give me. Include any recent access to my personal logs, I want to know every person who may have had access to a recording of my voice." Janeway is pacing her ready room, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. "Chakotay, has anyone shown hostility to Harry in the last few weeks?"

"No, Captain. I've heard nothing from either Mr. Kim nor any other members of the crew to indicate that someone might be upset with him. Frankly, it's more likely the opposite," he replies, a sigh escaping him.

"The opposite? Meaning what, precisely?" She rounds on her second-in-command, one hand on her hip as she leans over his chair.

"Meaning that Harry would have every reason to be annoyed with the crew, not the other way around." She quirks an eyebrow at him, so he continues. "Harry has been seeing a lot more gentle ribbing recently. Members of the crew have gotten comfortable treating him like their little brother." Janeway smiles softly, thinking of the banter she so often sees between Harry and Tom. "I'm not convinced he deserves it." Chakotay frowns, thinking of the frustration he has seen in the young man's eyes when comments cut too closely. "He may have been green when we got here, but Harry's become a fine officer."

"Agreed," Janeway says with a nod, though she knows that she has treated him more as a son than a subordinate. "But that doesn't explain why someone would impersonate me to attack him. Has anyone been to the surface besides our away team?"

"Negative, Captain," Tuvok answers. "Permission to head down, myself, with a security team?"

"Granted, but get me those communication logs first. Dismissed."

* * *

Everything is pain. The creature only touched the device to his skin for a few seconds, but his body is still screaming in agony what seems like days later. He is finally, finally coming down from it when the voice is back behind him.

"Are you feeling well, Mr. Kim? Or shall I call you Harry?" Harry's face distorts in fear and disgust at the voice. "Harry it is, then." The creature is strolling around him, observing the way Harry's muscles twitch and jump as the final waves of pain leave him. "Do you like my toy?" Harry eyes the creature warily, relieved to see that both hands are empty at the moment. "It's a special device that splits your nerve endings and then repairs them on an alternating current. It's not particularly delicate, but it's certainly effective. I only had to tap it to you and you were writhing for six hours. Of course, that sort of struggle can leave a man hungry. Are you hungry, Harry?" it asks with false concern, mockery clear through the haze of exhaustion and pain still clouding Harry's mind. Despite himself, Harry nods, and then something like a hypospray is at his neck, bringing him into darkness once more.

The creature does not leave him this time. It pockets the medical spray and gingerly removes the gag from his prisoner's mouth. It leaves the room briefly and then returns carrying a length of tubing and a small, metallic drum. The feeding tube is pressed firmly down the prisoner's throat, and the drum of broth is emptied into him. The creature removes the tube, places the gag firmly back into Harry's mouth, and revives him.

Harry's immediate response is to cough at the phantom feeling of the tube, but the gag makes him choke it down. His eyes are stinging and he is still so cold. He shivers hard.

"Couldn't have you trying to bite me, now could I?" the creature says as an explanation. "You must be cold. Our research has shown that your species is most comfortable between 20 and 25 degrees, but we like things a little cooler down here. You'll either adapt to living at 8 degrees, or you'll die. It's not all that important that you live, but it would be a shame to have to replace you with someone else from your ship. Your pilot friend, or the Borg woman, perhaps?" Harry can feel his heart quicken in panic at the thought of Tom or Seven being subjected to this in his place. "All you have to do to stop that is be strong enough to live to the next questioning, hmm?" The condescension in the creature's voice is chilling, but Harry knows that he'll endure this as long as he can. He has to keep his family safe. "You're fighting?" the creature says with some surprise at the resolve on his prisoner's face. "After all the ridicule they throw at you? Oh yes," it says, seeing Harry's alarm, "we have been watching, we have seen." And then its eyes are fixed on Harry's and Harry begins to feel a memory being forced to the forefront of his mind.

Seven is looking at him with the sort of boredom one directs at dirt on their shoe while Tom laughs behind him. He's just asked her to watch a movie with him, to less than positive response. His vision swims for a moment and he's suddenly at a table in the mess hall and B'Elanna swats the side of his head for asking something about Klingon culture. The scene changes and it's Tom telling him to put on his big boy pants when Harry mentions being homesick, then it's Janeway looking at him with pity, Tuvok quirking that damn eyebrow, Kes with her knowing concern, more and more people treating him like a child, a fool. He is breathing heavily through the gag, trying to force the unpleasant memories away, but the creature has some kind of control on his thoughts. He has tears streaming down his face a hollow ache in his chest before it finally stops, and Harry thinks that he'd rather have the metal "toy" again instead. Why, he asks himself, do I want to protect these people? He's immediately ashamed of this thought, but it plagues him as the creature smiles and slips out the door.

Harry lies awake on his cot, alternately furious with his crew and himself, unable to stop replaying all the memories the creature brought forward. He begins to make a list, pros and cons, of all his shipmates, trying to figure out if there's anyone he owes it to to survive. He knows that his feelings are being manipulated, but his heart feels defeated as he works through his friends, remembering all the taunts and teasing he's received. But then he gets to command and stops. Chakotay, he thinks, has never belittled me. He has always been a rock. He grasps desperately to this thought and holds it as he feels himself slipping once more into sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

The communication logs turn up mostly useless, until Seven notices an encrypted signature attached to the captains combadge. She traces it to the communications array and discovers, with some dread, that the planet below is not as uninhabited as previously thought. Someone from below has been listening. She takes her findings to the captain.

Janeway's blood runs cold when she learns this. Someone, or something, has been spying on her crew, and she can only believe that one of them has been taken captive by these creatures.

"Tuvok, gather a security team," she orders. Tom stands to join them, but she is behind him in an instant, gently pressing him back into his seat. "I understand," she says in a lower voice so that her words are only for him, "that you're worried about him, but we may need your skills to bring us out of here once we have Harry back."

"But Captai—"

"No buts, Mr. Paris." Her hand squeezes this shoulder. "At least not until we know more."

Tom sets his jaw with resignation. He hasn't relaxed at all since Neelix contacted the ship four hours ago. His back is aching with the ramrod posture he's maintained, but his nerves hold him taut. He needs to _do_ something. _Harry's just a kid_ , he thinks. _I need to be there for him._

Tuvok is already out the door and marching towards the transporter room.

* * *

The planet is quiet and peaceful when the security team beams down. They traverse Harry's last known coordinates, searching for any sign of alien life. They scan dozens of birds and small mammals, but nothing that appears threatening or capable of the deception Voyager is investigating. It has been another three hours of fruitless searching when suddenly Ayala is waving Tuvok over to him.

The Vulcan hurries to his location and finds that Ayala has discovered a cave entrance. The tricorder in Tuvok's hand goes wild.

"Captain," he says as he activates his combadge.

"Go ahead Tuvok."

"We have discovered a series of underground caves on the planet. The rock seems to be made of an unknown compound that prevents our scanners from going much deeper than the entrance. I surmise that is why we have been unable to detect them from the ship."

"Acknowledged," she replies. "Station a lookout near an entrance, try to get an idea of who we'll be dealing with inside."

"Understood."

* * *

The images that Tuvok's team bring back to the ship are foreign to everyone but Seven. She merely quirks an eyebrow and the identifies the unusual creatures as "species 6487, the Gravatti." Janeway zeroes in on her.

"The Borg encountered the Gravatti several hundred years ago, but they were unworthy of assimilation. They displayed rudimentary telepathic powers and were barely able to leave their own planet's orbit. This, however, is not their homeworld. It would seem that they have progressed rapidly since our last encounter." Her voice is dry but not entirely unimpressed. "It would take significant improvement in their communications skills to be able to monitor our ship from the planet's surface."

Chakotay has been listening with deepening concern.

"Tell us more about these 'rudimentary telepathic powers'," he demands. His voice, as always, is soft, but something dark weighs on it.

"The Gravatti have a limited ability of suggestion," she explains. "They were able to make another remember certain memories, or instill a particular feeling. The Borg deemed the threat of a Gravatti reminding a drone of their individuality too great to bother with a miniscule advancement in weaponry."

"Weaponry?" Janeway asks with alarm.

"They have a particular… _knack,_ as you would say, for nerve damage. Their methods were crude and unreliable. The Borg would have perfected them."

The captain is silent for a moment as she considers this new information. Tom is white at his post, a nervous sweat slicking his palms.

"Senior staff to my ready room."

* * *

The plan is simple. Commander Chakotay will infiltrate the underground hive, find Harry, and beam back to the ship with him. The not so simple part is making him into a convincing Gravatti, and fast. It has already been 10 hours since Harry disappeared. It's actually little Naomi Wildman, wandering through sickbay, who has the brilliant idea to use the EMH's mobile emitter to project the body of a Gravatti _around_ Chakotay, rather than having him undergo time-consuming cosmetic surgery. Janeway is so proud, she would adopt the little girl right then and there.

Armed with a face that he prefers not to think about and a Gravattian name, Cholbute, Chakotay beams down the surface.


	3. Chapter 3

The planet is quiet when "Cholbute" arrives on the surface. With ears pricked for any unusual sound, he makes his way to the nearest cave entrance. Immediately, he notices the drop in temperature and is grateful for the radiant warmth generated by the holo-emitter. He'll have to be careful not to stand too close to any Gravatti lest they notice his warmth.

The tunnels of the cave are unusually straight-forward and lit with electric lights, as if they had been made intentionally rather than by the forces of nature. The walls are dry, smooth. Chakotay makes his way quickly through. After he has travelled for five or six minutes, the corridor widens and he passes a Gravatti, standing casually against the wall. It looks at him and clicks its mouth with a downward nod. Chakotay does it back, hoping that this is a reciprocal greeting. When the Gravatti looks away from him and back at the datapadd in its fingers, Chakotay's shoulders sag slightly in relief. He keeps moving.

Around another corner, the walls widen further until he's suddenly standing in a great hall, easily five times the size of Voyager's cargo bay. There are no stalactites or other natural features of a cave, but a smooth dome of glittering black. Light radiates from fist-sized bioluminescent insects that move in loose swarms twenty feet up. It's tempting to stare at them in awe, forgetting that this sight must be commonplace to the Gravatti who live here, but a muffled yelling coming from across the room reminds him why he is here. He keeps to the wall, trying to keep an eye on the tunnel he entered through. His tricorder is of little use in these tunnels and the fear of becoming lost makes him just a little queasy.

The yelling gets louder as Chakotay makes his way down a new tunnel, seeing by the light of the insects, now crawling along the tunnel ceilings. He tries to keep his pace casual, professional, but worry speeds him on. He hopes that he simply looks like a man with somewhere to be.

* * *

Harry can't remember when he was last allowed to rest. He has been writhing in agony for his whole existence, he must have been, because there is nothing else in his head. There's no room for anything but the struggle to keep breathing between screams. The creature has left out the gag this time, preferring to let Harry hear the full force of his pain as it rips through him. Deep bruises have formed along the path of his restraints, striping his arms and chest with raised, purple sores. He doesn't notice them.

He had been visited once more by the creature. At least, he thinks it was the same one. His vision has been blurring for the last several hours and the alien can't look all that different from its brethren. It circled it him, asking question after question about Voyager, how is achieves warp, how it converts dilithium for fuel, how they get food, what sort of weapons systems they have, what the command structure looks like, on and on and on. Harry stayed quiet, even when he was offered a blanket, even when he was told that he'd be treated as an emissary to bring fortune to their people, even when the creature lost its patience and forced two long, haired fingers down his throat and let Harry choke on them. Tears fell from his eyes at the stinging of it, and it was almost grateful for an excuse to let them fall.

 _Tom would call you a momma's boy if he could see you now_ , sang a cruel little voice in his head. He ignored it, and was rewarded with another touch of the creature's weapon. The screaming began.


	4. Chapter 4

Chakotay feels uneasy about how empty the tunnels have seemed to be. Only a handful of Gravatti have crossed his path between the cave mouth and his current location halfway down the second hall. Seven mentioned that they have acute hearing. He thinks that maybe they're avoiding the screaming coming from the room nearby. _How ironic_ , he thinks, _that Harry's torture may be what safely delivers him home_. He can only hope that the Gravatti have burrowed deep enough to allow them a quick escape.

The strangled screams begin to taper off slightly, turning to a ragged moaning that breaks and restarts as exhausted vocal cords strain to keep working. There is audible gasping and wheezing that accompanies it, a throat in protest giving its all just to breathe. Chakotay is certain he's outside the correct door. Something deeper than sound tells him Harry's there, just beyond the door.

With another glance up and down the corridor to make sure he's alone, Chakotay slides the door open. He means to scan the room for a captor, but his eyes fall on Harry and cannot be moved. The air rushes out of his lungs in a soft _whoosh_ , and he rushes to his side. Harry is barefoot and bare-chested, strapped to a medical cot by thick, ropy cords that stand out against his pale skin. Angry welts line the ropes on either side when they cross skin, and then the bruises give way to a terrifying pallor. If he were lying still, Chakotay would be certain he was dead.

Harry's eyes roll unseeingly for a moment before focusing on Chakotay's face. He recoils and begins to hyperventilate, straining once more against the bonds holding him and Chakotay realizes too late that his cover is still on. He takes a step back, shushing Harry, and deactivates the holo-emitter.

"It's me," he says calmly, his voice soft like wet sand. "Chakotay. Just me."

Harry is still struggling and raking in air as quickly as his battered lungs will let him. Panicked, Chakotay holds up both hands in a sign of surrender, but begins to speak like a ship's commander.

"Mr. Kim, be still." The command allows no argument, and Harry goes rigid, staring fearfully at his CO. "Mr. Kim, I'm going to approach you slowly, and then I'm going to release your restraints." Harry makes no motion to show he understands, but he stays still and maintains eye-contact, so Chakotay proceeds. "You will lie still and allow me to use a dermal regenerator. Understood?" There is only silence in the room for a few moments as the crazed panic begins to drain from Harry's expression, and then he gives an almost imperceptible nod.

Releasing a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, the commander steps forward. The ropes are tight against Harry's skin and Chakotay can't remove them without accidentally brushing Harry's skin, and the ensign wrenches painfully at the contact.

"Shh, I'm sorry, you're okay," Chakotay assures him as he resumes his task, finally freeing the last rope across Harry's ankles. He reaches for the dermal regenerator and stops when he sees Harry's face. The almost-calm that he'd acquired when he realized he was being rescued is again eclipsed by an unbridled terror, but Chakotay realizes that Harry isn't looking at him. He's looking at the regenerator.

"Harry?" He holds the device in his palm, not pointing it anything. "Harry, may I use this?"

His eyes are wide and fearful. He tears his gaze away to look at Chakotay and stares. They just look for a few moments. Chakotay tries to fill his gaze with all his admiration and respect for this young man in front of him who has withstood so much for his crew. _Harry, come back_ , he thinks, trying to will his thoughts to reach the other man. He can't say how unnerved he is by the fact that Harry hasn't spoken a word this whole time.

Slowly, Harry nods. He returns his eyes to the regenerator and doesn't look away or blink, but he lets Chakotay run it briefly along the worst of his bruising and chafed skin. He can barely feel the tingling of the device over the constant stinging of his recovering nerves, but he does understand that it doesn't hurt. He opens his mouth to say as much with surprise and a little wonder, but nothing comes out. Just a dry wheeze that belies his remaining pain.

Chakotay seems to understand, though. He offers Harry a hand to help sit up, and Harry gingerly takes it. Every movement is agony, but it's nothing compared to what he's been through. He doubts very much that even third degree burns would faze him right now.

"Can you move on your own?" Chakotay asks, concern and care loud and clear, but not, Harry thinks, pity. He gets his feet under him, adjusts his balance until it feels right, and nods. "Then we've got to go." He rips the holo-emitter from his uniform and presses it softly to Harry's skin. "I hate to ask this of you, but you may need the disguise more than I do." Harry's stomach churns at the thought of looking like one of those… _things_ , but something in Chakotay's eyes makes him agree, and he is instantly enveloped in a buzzing sort of warmth that he is inordinately grateful for. He looks at Chakotay with a question.

"I'll lead you out. There was very little activity between here and the entrance, and I can probably take out anyone we meet on the way." He grips his phaser a little tighter and steps past Harry towards the door. "Voyager is waiting; she's got a lock on the point where I entered the cave, and they'll have us aboard as soon as we're clear of this rock." With a final glance over his shoulder to make sure Harry is following, Chakotay opens the door.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I apologize for the sporadic updating and chapter length. Life is messy and I don't practice writing nearly as often as I ought to. That said, I'm asking all of you to help me direct where this story goes. Thus far, relationships have remained platonic, but I'm considering changing that. Harry is a given half of this equation, but I'm open to ideas on the other half of it. Leave suggestions (or things you desperately hope I avoid) in comments and I'll do my best to work within those confines.

* * *

The air of the tunnel surprises Chakotay with its coolness now that he isn't surrounded by the holo-image. He shivers despite his uniform and marvels again at the simple fact that Harry is conscious.

"We're clear," he says after taking stock of the passage. "Stay beside me, Harry. If we run into any Gravatti, I'm your prisoner, understood?" Harry nods after a moment. He is having trouble staying upright and sways minutely before Chakotay gently grips his hand and places it on his shoulder. "Lean on me, Harry. It will be easier to feign capture if you've already got ahold of me." The fingers that clasp his shoulder are surprisingly tight. There will probably be some bruising later.

They make it all the way through the domed cavern and into the tunnel to the outside before they encounter another Gravatti. It is taller than Chakotay, taller even than the disguise worn by Harry, and makes an impressive figure before them. It cocks its head.

"What is this one for?" it asks Harry, gesturing to the "prisoner."

"The other is broken," he manages to rasp in response. Chakotay feigns a struggle against the hand on his shoulder while filing away Harry's statement for later.

"Like hell," he spits at them. "You won't break Harry, and you won't break me."

The Gravatti blocking the exit bends forward to look into Chakotay's eyes. The mouth twitches at the corner, almost a smirk, and Chakotay reels at the images flying through his mind. He is no longer in the tunnel, but back on his ship, his _Maquis_ ship, and dead bodies fill the view screen. The _Val Jean_ is chasing down a vessel, firing, destroying it. Then his father is shaking his head in disappointment, and Chakotay looks down to see Janeway's lifeless body in his arms. Somewhere outside his vision, B'elanna is screaming. And then it stops. Bewildered and nauseous, Chakotay looks up to see he is back in the tunnel, slumped against the wall. A Gravatti stands over him with a phaser, hand shaking, offering his free hand to him. Chakotay realizes belatedly that Harry has stolen his phaser and shot the other creature. He reaches for the hand offered to him, but before they make contact, Harry's eyes lose focus and he slumps to the ground, unconscious.

It is slow progress to carry Harry with him the rest of the way out, but Chakotay can't afford to wait for either of them to recover. He has deactivated the mobile-emitter to better navigate the narrow passage, and it takes more of his strength not to look down at the wreckage of Harry Kim than it does to press forward. He stumbles gratefully into the open air, sighing in relief as he feels the transporter dissolve them.

* * *

The first thing Harry notices when he regains consciousness is the beeping. He fleetingly realizes that he must be in sick bay before the wave of pain overtakes him and he gasps at the force of it, arching slightly off the bed.

"Easy, Mr. Kim," says a soft voice beside him. His eyes flutter open, unfocussed, but he recognizes the doctor all the same. "You've had a pretty rough ride of it the last two days."

 _Understatement of the century,_ he thinks.

"You've experienced some pretty significant nerve damage and strain to your vocal cords, but your external injuries are healing nicely." Harry is only vaguely aware of what's being said to him. He is so tired, so _cold_ , and his exhaustion has settled into his bones so deeply that he thinks it may never leave. "I've been keeping out visitors since you arrived back, but if you're feeling up to it, a certain pilot has been threatening to dismantle my program if I don't let him in soon."

Harry wants to laugh at that, but he can't make his body respond. His face aches, and his throat aches, and his _fucking soul_ is aching. He nods anyway.

"Excellent," the doctor replies in his professional tone of voice. "Computer, deactivate forcefield and unseal doors to sick bay." The computer chirps in response, and instantly the doors hiss open.

"Harry!" Tom is by his side quicker than ought to be possible, and it's all Tom can do to not gather his best friend into his arms right there in sick bay and sob in relief. "Jesus, Harry, I thought we might lose you." His blue eyes are too bright, too close, and Harry is flooded with memories brought forward and twisted by his captors. He grimaces and looks away, missing the hurt on Tom's face as he does so. "Harry?"

The Doctor cuts in. "Mr. Paris, I know very well that you read my initial reports on his condition. I will thank you to not press him into conversation before his throat is healed." Chastised, Tom settles for placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry goes rigid at the contact. The mistake is obvious the second Harry begins convulsing.

* * *

Chakotay finds Tom in Sandrine's, staring blankly into the glass of synthehol in front of him.

"He knows you didn't mean to hurt him, Tom." Chakotay's voice is like bourbon, earthy and rich and rasping. He sounds exhausted, and Tom spares a thought of gratitude for the person who rescued his best friend from below.

"Good intentions get you nowhere," he replies.

The stool beside his scrapes against the floor and the familiar weight of Chakotay settles beside him.

"I haven't had a chance to speak with Harry about everything that happened before I arrived, but I was unfortunate enough to get some first-hand experience of the telepathy Seven warned us about." He pauses to motion for a drink from the bartender. "Memory is a powerful thing, Tom, and a being with the power to manipulate that has an opportunity for unimaginable cruelty." He is silent, thoughtful, as he sips his drink. "Harry will need more than the Doctor to get his life back on track." _You will not protect him by leaving him_ , goes unsaid but Tom hears it nonetheless.

Tom accepts this advice with a nod, throwing back the rest of his drink. He sits for a moment before turning to his commander. There is a question in his eyes, and he opens and closes his mouth a few times as he searches for the right words.

Chakotay thinks that Tom will ask for details of the escape, or perhaps a more full account of what he knows happened down there. But instead, Tom asks him what _he_ was made to remember.

It would be easy to ignore the question, nearly as easy to give a monotonous account of the memories he relived, but something in Tom's expression makes him think hard about what he experienced.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," Tom interjects, interpreting Chakotay's silence for anger. He stands to leave and is a few steps away when Chakotay's voice reaches him.

"Shame, Tom." Tom turns around to regard his CO curiously. "They made me remember my failures, my cruelties, and my shame."

Tom is still standing, facing the bar, in shocked silence when the doors to the holosuite hiss shut behind Chakotay.


End file.
